Never Giving Up on Love.

Energy. Ya energy felt different. Vibe was right. Sex was tight. But that energy was something else…had me second guessing myself, had me shook…

I want to be at a crossroads with this love shit. I want to wipe my hands clean and be done with it because the shit seems to be done with me. I want to pretend that I don’t care. But I do. I’ve always cared. And now, at this very moment, I am being reminded why dating is a struggle for me.

I’m thirty-one years old and I’ve never been in love. The latter part I know for certain; a part of me would like to believe that I may have loved a man or two but looking back on it now, I don’t know if that was even love, more like an unrequited crush. In my past, I’ve pursued what I wanted regardless if they wanted me or not and when it inevitably didn’t work out, I was left feeling lost and rejected. Reckless. And defeated.

I’ve had so many let downs in dealings with the opposite sex that you would think I would throw in the towel but I refuse to – I have this strong need that won’t go away – I desire my soulmate, my life partner, my everything and anything but the work that it requires to align with him can be draining.

And it shouldn’t be.

I should never be in the position of my Queendom where I am chasing or attempting to get a man’s attention (something I did so ruthlessly in the past) and I won’t do it but my energy attracts all different vibes and I’m on constant guard to protect myself so that I don’t let anyone in that isn’t deserving of ME, of my vibe, of what I have to offer but when someone does come in, I think that must mean that they’re special, they must be different…

Wrong again.

I can’t say I’m necessarily disappointed as I don’t put expectations on any one person, situation, or experience but I am questioning the power of my manifestation techniques. I am questioning how specific I need to be when I am manifesting someone into my life because the person I just manifested seemed to fit what I asked the Creator for except tiny details like being honest or being single. HA!


The other day, I felt like wiping my hands clean, I felt like closing up shop, maybe even becoming a lesbian but I refuse; this whole experience confirmed to me that I have more work to do on myself, more healing, more growth, more evolving and learning. This spiritual journey doesn’t end because I’ve already learned a few lessons…the progression of healing is a ever-evolving journey of growth.

I’m not done.

I’m far from it.

Every situation is a learning experience. A lesson. So even though I’m feeling tired, and I want to scream, “Why does this always happen to me?” – I won’t, instead, I’m getting on my knees, closing my eyes, arms outstretched to the Most High and asking Him:

“What lesson do I need to learn?”


Anxiety is a bitch.

The title says it all: I am tired of being railroaded by my mind. I want freedom! I demand to be set free! It’s been playing too long of a role in my life and I’m ready to fire her ass.

I honestly have been in denial about my anxiety for a long time. I catered the worry in my mind by self medicating with marijuana which only enhanced my worrying and caused me to to derail into a deeper depression at one point in my life a few years ago. For the longest time, I have not had a good grip on balancing my happiness with my incompleteness. If something good was happening to me, I rationalized it by believing that it wasn’t real, wasn’t meant for me, or that somehow it would be taken away or ruined. And I was always right.

It turns out that I’ve always been the one sabotaging shit in my life. That’s a hard self-realization to come to – that it’s always you holding YOU back. Why is it this happens? I think it happens to a lot of us. We’re human – it’s kind of instinctual almost to go to that place of inner doubt and fear but…why?

Lack of faith. It’s that simple.

This year has been a journey of self growth for me; everything that I thought I knew before turning thirty about life itself has been turned on its head: I don’t consider myself a Christian anymore (I do still love God ya’ll), I haven’t had decent sex in over a year or more(which I am okay with, like really), I’ve learned that words MATTER – what I think about – will manifest itself into my life – good or bad, I have had to confront multiple demons in my closet (I’m still working on this) and come to the resounding relevation that I want/deserve more out of this life than the life that I am currently living…and that it is solely on me to make that change happen.

So, as my mind grows and evolves, my attitude towards myself and life itself changes – I am more upbeat, happy, smiling, embracing life and I am praying everyday, practicing self love affirmations, writing in my journal every night and meditating. And guess what? It’s working! I feel so liberated. I feel free! I haven’t felt this good about anything ever. I think I am on cloud nine, just floating, floating, floating in the air and nothing can bring me down.

My anxiety: *Bitch, hold my beer*

When she hits me, it’s like a tidal wave. I cannot move, my mind is crippled and everything that I have been learning to love and accept about myself and life itself is thrown out the window. I question shit. I over-analyze. I overthink. I worry. I am in doubt and fear and I question my intuitions which you should never do because your intuition isn’t wrong. It’s your “God gut” – it’s never wrong.

But that’s all it can take to reset all of the positive work that I have been putting in; I went to see Iyanla Vanzant last month while I was having my anxiety issues and she said something that stuck out to me – it takes 17 seconds for the Universe to record our thoughts and that one simple negative thought negates all of the positive ones. As I sat there listening to her, I was just like, “Fuck my life.”

The thing with fear is that it stops all progression. It halts everything. It has no sense of calm when it comes around – it just fucks everything up. Fear ruins relationships, work life, home life, and your mental state of mind. Fear stems from lack of faith. Not trusting in what you cannot see.

Has fear helped you in life? It’s never helped me. It has only stunted my growth, my learning experiences, my love life, my professional life, etc. I used to believe that by not stepping out on faith and trusting what I did not know made me strong but in retrospect, it made me weaker.

What a scary life to live to be too afraid to trust God! To trust the Universe! God only wants the absolute best for me (and you too) and why should I sell myself short? Why is that I have to be in control of things when I know with absolute certainty that I have no control over anything in my life, period?

Self-sabotage is reckless! I am not trying to depress anyone with this blog but I hope that someone can relate to my experience of having anxiety and fear. I know I am not alone in this. I know that many struggle with this everyday, in the privacy of their homes, suffering in silence. It’s okay!

I am with you. I understand your pain. Anxiety is a bitch but here’s the great thing about it – you have the power to reset your path. You do not have to accept the fear and the worry. You can acknowledge that you have a problem with letting go and trusting the unknown. You can accept that your faith meter is a little low on juice and needs a rejuvenation. And you can choose to be better, do better, every single day.

It’s not easy. It’s not something that happens overnight but you can fight this thing with everything that you got.

That’s what I’ve chosen to do. I am surrendering to what is. I am surrendering to the NOW. I am letting go and trusting what I cannot see because nothing else has seemed to work in my favor when I try to control the situation or the outcome. I have no power over the future, I have no reliance on the past…I have only have the now and I determined to keep my energy light and filled with love and optimism.

How do I do that?

I pray every morning and night. I repeatedly say what I am grateful for. I stare in my bathroom mirror and repeat love affirmations to myself (“I am love, I am light, I am powerful, I am strong, I am confident” – choose what works for you), I meditate and become very still – when a negative thought or I feel a sense of anxiety kicking in, I repeat my mantras, and I breathe deeply in and out. I become so still and quiet. And I then recognize that the fear, that anxiety, it isn’t truly who I am, it isn’t in the essence of my being but it is in my mind – rooted in pain and hurt from past experiences and situations. It is something that needs continued healing and self care but it is something I cannot give power over to.

That’s the hard part – not allowing it to overcome you because it can feel like it’s all that you are, and fear KNOWS you so it knows how to push your buttons and revert your way of thinking back to worry and self doubt. You have to be stronger than IT. You have to want more for self than that life. There’s so much more in this life for all of us but a lot of us do not tap into it because we are living a life that’s safe or what we know for sure.

On this journey, I have learned that I am a spiritual being having a human experience and that if I am trusting the spiritual realm of things – fear cannot reside in my human form but if I am allowing the human experience to have its say then everything is up for grabs – depression, anxiety, self-medicating, etc.

What happens if I choose to trust the Universe, release and let go? What happens when I stop allowing myself to succumb to my mind and accept what is? Hold on a second, I’m going to find out. 🙂

“Hi, my name is Jelisha and I used to be the side chick.”

I’ve decided to live my truth, openly and freely. I know the backlash, judgement and side-eyes will be swift but I am in acceptance of who I once was. No one can hurt you if you know who you are and no one can hold anything against you if you own your truth. So here is mine:

I used to be the side chick. I’ve dated men who had girlfriends and men who had wives (unbeknownst to me); I didn’t go searching for men who were taken but they kept finding me or at least I kept attracting them. And as I’ve learned more about how the Universe works – it has broadened my understanding of how the law of attraction truly works. Like attracts like. If I’m an insecure, low-vibration woman who does not like who she is then I will attract people into my life who are that same level as me. Low af.

I’m not proud to say that I’ve been with married men. It’s not something I take pride in but it is my truth and I want to share a bit of me with you today.

Generational curses are hard to break especially in a black household because the history of the pain of slavery and oppression has plagued our communities and households for centuries and nothing can change the harm it does to one’s soul unless someone decides to break the curse. I am learning now how to be in control of my own destiny and how to choose the life that’s meant for me but in the past, I was falling into habit holes that my mother and grandmother left for me.

As a kid, I didn’t grow up in a two parent household. I didn’t understand what unconditional love was. My parents never got along. Arguments ensued on daily basis. My mother was a single mother trying to force a man that she loved who did not love her back to be a father when he didn’t know how to be one. No one was perfect in this scenario. I believed the norm as a child was to see parents separate from one another. Broken. Apart. Wrecked.

And when I did see examples of relationships as a child, they were always toxic. My mother married a man who did not know how to deal with his emotions and feelings so he chose to use violence instead and that became another norm to me – to be afraid of what I would find when I came home from school because you just never know what could happen when you live in a home that’s unstable.

I’m not telling you these things for sympathy or for you to somehow understand me; I am telling you this so that you may understand that your childhood shapes who you are as an adult. We all have things from our childhood that we have to learn how to cope with as adults.

I grew up in believing in the fairy tales that I would watch on my television screen but knowing that the reality of it all was not black and white. Love reared its ugly head in my life as something that was hurtful and destructive. So I gave out what was given back to me.

I never thought I was cute as a teenager . I was chubby, tomboyish and socially awkward. I dressed in huge clothes which didn’t help diminish my chubbiness but enhanced it by the tons. And I was bullied constantly.

A sensitive soul, who did not know what love was, found solace in being treated less than her worth. I didn’t know what my worth was but I knew any attention was better than none so if a guy liked me, I gave him a piece of me so that I can feel something good about myself in return – I thought it was a fair trade off.

Being naive doesn’t work well when you’re dating or trying to date because people can see through you, they know if they can take advantage of you and manipulate you to doing what they desire. I never asked questions when guys were into me, I felt like I was overstepping boundaries if I did so…then I would get the early morning phone calls asking who I was and how did I know their man and I would be so shocked by the sequence of events.

Mind boggled, I would call the man a horrible human being, blame him for all of my issues and forget to look within myself to find my hurt and pain so that I can do the much needed healing within myself. This went on and on for years. I mean, I remained celibate for years but I would still attract taken men and I felt that I didn’t deserve more. Maybe love wasn’t meant for a woman like me.

The depth of my pain would sink me lower into my unhealthy spiral of low self esteem; six years ago, I met a man that I had to have. I was instantly attracted to him. I felt compelled to know everything about him from the first glance and when I am interested in someone, you know it because it’s a goal for me: I will get what I want one way or the other. So with this man, I pursued him and he entertained me. I didn’t ask the important questions like, “Are you married?” “Are you in a relationship?”…I just assumed that men just offered up their truth freely.

Lesson One: Never, ever assume shit.

This man told me half truths or maybe no truths at all and I knew it but I continued to ignore that part of the story because I saw him as a goal. I had a crush and that was all I could see. Damn the lies. Damn the truth. I just wanted what I wanted.

My conscience gnawed at me everyday. I couldn’t sleep well. I starved myself during this period. I was paranoid af. I didn’t trust anyone and I lived in secrecy so that I could keep enterataining this man.

And let me just say that we never slept together but there was an emotional relationship there. I won’t deny this. I know I was wrong. I accept my responsibility in it all but I don’t regret it. I know you’re judging me like a lot right now but you see, the woman I was back then wanted to be loved because she didn’t know how to love herself and proceeded to make incredibly stupid choices. That’s why I preach on loving yourself as much as I do now because I’ve been to the bottom of the barrel. I’ve seen what it’s like to get the breadcrumbs while everyone else gets the entire meal.

The back and forth of this emotional relationship went on for years and then after it ended, I again continued to be in other toxic relationships. My last relationship damn near broke me. I kept repeating the same cycle over and over. I was repeating the same horrible lessons because I refused to learn from them and grow.

I’ve been single over three years. In these last three years, I have battled and conquered depression, weight gain, insecurities, health issues, unhappiness and sadness. I have grown to understand that I have the control of who I allow to come into my life. I can bring about the love I desire but it begins with the love that I have for myself.

In this last year, I’ve dug deeper than I’ve ever gone to really know myself and to know what it means to look myself in the mirror and like the person that I’m seeing staring back at me. I wake up every morning with prayer and words of affirmation, I journal everyday, I meditate and I cleanse my spirit and aura but this is just the beginning for me.

Self love is something that will be a continuous journey for me. Truthfully, we all have our journey to go through. I’m choosing to be honest and share my truth to help someone else because we believe people have their shit together when truthfully, they can be dying on the inside and you would never know it. I choose to give love in abundance because I know it will be given back to me. I choose to love openly and freely and I will receive that in return.

I have so many layers to who I am, to where I’ve come from and where I am headed and I hope that whomever reads this knows that I see you and that I am here, putting myself out there, so that you know that you’re not alone in this world. Keep loving on yourself even if nobody else will. You’re amazing. 🙂

Until next time….stay in the light.

How I Didn’t Get My Groove Back.


Hey ya’ll! I’m back!

I’ve returned to reality after living in paradise for the past six days. I was in a different dimension. I pretended that I was Stella (if you don’t know who I’m talking about, please stop reading my blog…JK!) every day that I spent away from the states. I had six wonderful, long days of absolute bliss.

I went on vacation to Jamaica. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always dreamt of going to some exotic island, meeting a handsome black man, falling in love and getting my block knocked off and…okay, let me calm down because none of that shit happened and yet it was still so wonderful! I recommend that every woman should visit the Caribbean at least once in your lifetime and if you do, please make sure you have a MAN!


Jamaica was wonderful ya’ll. I’ll remember it for the rest of my life. I’ll cherish those six days like I still cherish my Maylayisan hair bundles. What I won’t miss is the thirstiness on the island. My goodness! You cannot be single on an island filled with Carribbean men. You just can’t.

Before going to Jamaica, I had made a promise to myself that I did not want to get involved with anyone that worked at the resort or any Caribbean men, period. My Mom freaked me out prior to my trip by recapping some rape crimes that recently occurred at another resort in Jamaica and I did not want to take any chances but I was open to meeting people visiting the resort.

And that I did.

Look, I’m not going to freak ya’ll out with all the details but let me run through some of my experiences: I met a group of men on my way to the resort and they were headed to wedding party at the resort I was staying at. After seeing them that first day, I kept running into them and I ended up going with them to a strip club for the groom’s bachelor party.

So, let’s keep it real here: a woman knows if she is going to sleep with someone – like, we just know, we may not say anything to the man prior but we know and I kind of knew that night but I also was debating in my head if that’s really what I wanted to do (I’m a Libra, we’re indecisive) but I had had about five drinks already so I knew where I was headed if I kept drinking…

Let me skip past all of the extra and just cut to the chase, nothing happened. I went to the restroom while at the club and realized my “friend” had decided to visit me a few days earlier than expected and so she pretty much shitted on all my plans.

Go figure.

Now as I look back, I believe it was a blessing in disguise but best believe it did not feel that way at the time.

Instantly, my trip took a turn as I became bloated, I couldn’t swim in the ocean because of my little “friend” and I couldn’t take any sexy pictures because I was so swole in the waist that I looked three months pregnant.


But, I was still so grateful to be on vacation. I really was. I just…didn’t check my calendar correctly before I booked this trip. My bad.

I was drunk the entire trip. I went horseback riding in the ocean, I went ATV riding and zip lining. I went dancing. I ate some good food. I lounged on the beach. I met some wonderful people….I did so much! I just didn’t get my groove back. Ha!

Not that I wanted to get my groove back necessarily. For me, being on that island, reinforced to me that I would only return to the islands if I had a man because like I said before, the thirst is real.

Let me run through some other scenarios real quick: I had a man tell me that he was going to cut to the chase and let me know that he didn’t want to get to know me but he wanted to blow my back out. Gee, thank you boo, how sweet (please know that that’s a joke). I had a woman come onto me and scratch the hell out of my legs while trying to feel me up at dinner. Oh and the dude that I liked from beginning of my trip? Well, I let it be known to him that we could spend time together on the resort but that I wasn’t looking for anything physical because I was on my cycle but…he didn’t care about that last part. He still wanted to do some things that I won’t write because it’s disgusting so I disappeared on his ass quick and in a hurry.

If you’re willing to do that with me, a stranger, your ass is nasty. I’m not with it boo.

The thirst is real. I rather have a consistent partner, ONE partner than deal with all of the extra foolishness. I’m a Libra. Sex and love kind of goes hand in hand with me. I can’t help it….I might be telling a different tale if my cycle hadn’t shown up when it did and changed the course of my trip but whatever! I wasn’t really Stella on this vacation. Nothing happened in Jamaica that needed to “stay” in Jamaica if you know what I mean. I didn’t get my groove back but I did enjoy the hell out of my six days. I loved every minute of it. Me and my family will never forget it. I’m so blessed that I got to experience it.

Just a word of advice to the ladies though, please don’t go to the islands single and if you do, make sure you wrap yourself in Saran wrap please. K? Thanks! 😉


Dirty Thirty.

Today’s my birthday. I’ve officially entered my thirties today. Twenties? Buh bye. It was nice knowing you, loving you, and thoroughly hating you but it’s time to press forward and I’ll be honest, I’ve been in a funk for a few weeks thinking about this day. I don’t think I’m having a mid-life crisis but I internalize all of my feelings, I analyze every emotion I have and I’ve been driving myself MAD with overthinking everything.

My inner thoughts go a little something like this:

Where am I going with my life? What am I doing? I need to save more money. I need to get my house next year. I need to lose these last twenty-five pounds before my metabolism slows all the way down and I’m FUCKED. I need to fast, no, maybe I’ll try the keto diet, no, just never eat again in my life! I want to have sex but I rather have love so I’ll wait on the sex. Will I ever get the love part though? Where is my husband? Maybe I should be tithing more?

See? I’ve been all over the place. My reaction to feeling overwhelmed forces me to isolate myself from everyone and everything. I dive deep into my social media obsession and shut everything else out. I’m not praying as much, I’m not allowing myself to feel anything, I’m just going with whatever.

In the midst of my feelings being everywhere, I blocked some numbers that needed to be cleansed from my spirit. God knows the desires of my heart. I talk to him about it daily, I’ve written it out, I’ve meditated over it but that also means that the enemy knows my desires as well and sometimes he likes to send counterfeits to try to take me off my course.

After all I’ve been through these last few years, I’m no dummy. I can spot a fuckboy a mile away. I peep game. And I’ll easily erase a person from my life and memory as quickly as I met them. I’m so grateful that I have learned the power of discernment. I’m even more grateful that I have learned the ability to say “no” and be okay with it.

For so long, I’ve always worried about pleasing others, making sure that everyone around was happy before I actually checked with myself to see how I’m doing. I put others’ needs before my own and I have steadily been disappointed by i

I’m going to branch off topic a bit but I recently read a book by Shonda Rhimes called “The Year of YES!” – if you don’t know who Shonda Rhimes is (sidenote: what’s wrong with you?) – just know that she’s the mastermind behind Grey’s Anatomy. Anyway, in the book, she has already acquired millions, she has her children, she has multiple successful television shows and she thinks she should be happy but she’s not.

She’s unfulfilled because she has not led her best life yet. She hasn’t lived in her truth yet. And so she learns the power of saying “yes” – of experiencing and living life to her fullest – of rediscovering what she loves and what makes her happy – not things or people – but what fulfills her spirit and being.

The book resonated with me deeply. I wanted to know what that felt like to just LIVE in today, in this moment, to say YES to things to that I desire but the ability to say NO to the things that I simply just don’t want to do. I told myself that I would begin my year of YES when I turned thirty – bring in this new chapter of my life with a bang!

And that’s when the enemy creeped in – keeping me up at night, consumed by social media, crippling my thoughts and actions with overthinking. To point it bluntly, I’ve been in a funk. I don’t want to admit it but these last few weeks have bothered the hell out of me. Is it normal to start feeling a rush of emotions when you’re about to turn thirty or am I overexaggerating? Please let ya girl know!

SO yesterday morning I went on trail walk/jog. I was alone. I wasn’t in my thoughts necessarily but I remember thanking my Creator for this moment and for bringing me into a new season. Halfway into my jog, I felt something land on me. I don’t do insects at ALL so I was preparing myself to start screaming with disgust (I don’t give a hoot who sees me act a fool) when I noticed it was a beautiful orange and black butterfly.

Her wings were fluttering about but her body was perfectly still. I felt paralyzed. I was entranced by her. I had to stop and stare. And for that brief moment, I wasn’t in my head. I wasn’t tuned into my phone or listening to my inner thoughts scrambling with anxiety. I was simply caught up in the beauty of God’s creation.

As my day progressed, I didn’t think much of the butterfly or what she may have represented. Instead, I chose to distract myself with reading about things on Twitter. My phone has been dry since I blocked a lot of dudes and I’m actually okay with that part of it but I won’t lie to you, I had a fleeting moment where I wanted to hear from somebody so that they could cater to my feelings for just a little bit.

Sometimes, I just want my booty rubbed on, you know? *sigh*

My girl friend recently moved into a new place and I went over to her apartment to help her with decorating. As I’m helping her decorate, I come back to the realization that it’s been close to six months since I moved into my home and I still haven’t done anything to it. I blame it on me having my Moon in Gemini (as I’ve said before, I’m really into this Astrology shit ya’ll) because my mind is everywhere at once – I can start something but never finish it – case in point, this blog entry, I was supposed to have this done on my birthday but it is now three weeks later and I am finally finishing it up. Lawd! Help me!

By the fact that I am everywhere, I don’t tend to let my mind settle but that night being in my friend’s apartment helped shift something for me. It was then followed by me watching the season finale of Insecure where Issa decides to put herself first before any man and actually focus on something as simplistic as fixing up her place because self love is the best love.

To me, it was a confirmation of what I needed to accept: I need to do things that make me happy. I need to feel inspired.

How do you inspire yourself? You get out of your head, you put your phone down, you look at your living room and become focused on making that room your home, you write down your goals and you stop saying what you need to do, instead be like Nike and just do it.

I’m struck by how a few weeks ago, on the evening of my birthday, I sat with my friends bemoaning about crossing over into my thirties as if it was a punishment instead of an blessing. God has a way of showing up, revealing Himself in ways that you could not imagine. I believe it was God that caused that butterfly to land on me a day before my birthday, I believe it was Him guiding me back to my center, to myself, and causing me to be aware of this life that I’m living  and how I’m letting things slip by me because I can’t can’t let go and let God work.

Some people may disagree with me but I don’t believe in luck at all. I do, however, believe in the divine power of God!

Let me tell you how things have changed and moved so quickly, I’ve lost twelve pounds (on Keto) since my birthday a few weeks ago. I’ve begun to decorate my place. My credit score increased by a lot of points last week. And I’m about to go on vacation to Jamaica…

You can’t tell me that God isn’t real! That He won’t move mountains in your life if you allow Him to!

I’m excited for this next venture of my life. I’m so hyped to be thirty ya’ll. This will be my best year yet, I know it. 🙂

P.S. My Mom and all my girlfriends tell me that the loving is the best for a woman in her thirties….LAWD, be a shield! Hehe.

If I Let Them…

“Hurts me the most when I wake
I fumble and twist, ’til the truth starts to click
There’s so much space in this bed
These sheets go for miles” – “If You Let Me” by Sinead Harnett

I’ve come to the forgone conclusion, in the last few weeks, that social media can introduce you into a bunch of…different type of people. I don’t want to date anyone that I’ve met on social media (please don’t DM me if I haven’t met you in person, you won’t get a reply). Honestly, I feel as if the mystery has been taken out of the mix of things when you choose to date someone you met online. It’s worked for some people in my life but it is not working for me and frankly, I don’t want it.

What I’ve begun to realize is that some men think that they know me because of memes I post on IG but really, they don’t know me at all.

They fall for a picture before they see the canvas.

Let me let you know something about me: I’m not an emotional person, even my mother can tell you that she worries that I don’t feel things enough because I don’t show any emotion about anything or anyone. And the truth is that I do feel things but I internalize my feelings and rationalize them in my head so when I happen to meet people who are emotional, I’m like a kid in a maze – I’m lost as heck. I don’t know what to do or how to react. And it triggers a reaction in me to run away.

I don’t like moving fast. I prefer a steady, slow progression. I like weighing my options. I’m really into Astrology y’all so bear with me but I’m a Libra – we are the sign of the scales – we are indecisive because we are always weighing our damn options because we do not want to make a wrong decision. Something so simple as getting lunch can take about thirty minutes to do if you’re with me because I can’t decide on where to go or once we get to somewhere, I won’t be able to decide on what to eat. It’s so freaking frustrating because I do this with a lot of decisions in my life, especially about men.

I weigh my options when I date. I know what I want. I know what I deserve and I’m confident in that but I am not confident in is moving quickly. Maybe it’s because I haven’t met that “one” yet because if I did, I wouldn’t necessarily care about weighing any damn pros and cons of a relationship.

Maybe I just think too damn much. That’s probably it.


Anyway, dating me is hard. I know it is. I am indecisive. I don’t latch on quickly and I’m not emotional so it’s a bit overwhelming for me when I meet someone for the first time and they let me know that they’re ALL in from the jump.

I recently met up with a guy, mind you, it was at a gas station for the first time and immediately, he was saying that he knew I was the one. In about a twenty-minute conversation, he laid out his personal demons, ex-wife cheating tales, vasectomy story (even though he said he would reverse his vasectomy if I became his wife) and everything else in between while I only revealed my last name. He then proceeded to tell me that he had to be the only man in my life and that we need to make things official ASAP.

His ass got blocked.

I met another man from online – we were in a group on Facebook and prior to us meeting in person, we had been texting and talking on the phone and he seemed eager and willing but I was open-minded to meet him. In person, he was cool as well but he accidentally chose a gay men’s bar for us to meet for the first time and we talked but I really don’t remember anything else about that night except seeing men twerk to Cardi B’s song “I Like It“.

I’ll be honest that this guy was friendly, nice and so sweet which peaked my interests to see what would happen between us. We had only been speaking for about a week or so when he hit me with like a four to five paragraph DM on Facebook and pretty much fucked everything up.

I’m all for men being honest and upfront because I am as well but he pretty much told me that he was okay with being friends but that he was worried that if he gets close to me that he would never be able to forget me, that he was extremely attached to me already and felt this strong pull to me,  among a lot of other things and I couldn’t understand where all of this was coming from.

And it creeped me the hell out.

You’re probably reading this thinking that I’m tripping’ and need to grow up but I’m the type of woman who if I don’t feel something for you, if there’s no chemistry or spark, I can’t force myself to feel something that just isn’t there. I don’t want to hurt anyone else but it astounds me when some men fall so quickly and maybe they feel a spark that I don’t but I still don’t get how you just know that this person is the right person for you.

I haven’t felt that way before. Don’t get me wrong because I want to feel it, I want to experience it, maybe more than anything else going on in my world right now but I want it to be reciprocated. He and I would be on the same wavelength. I would let him willingly and he would do the same for me. We should both feel it – long, written declarations of love aren’t necessary with us. We would be so in sync with one another – it should be an all-encompassing feeling and until I feel that way, I’m good with waiting.

Dating is hard enough in 2018 but meeting someone isn’t my cup of tea anymore. They think they really know me but they don’t have the slightest clue about me. And I’m not knocking on anyone else because what does not work for me could very well be everything for the next woman but as of right now?

I’m good luv, enjoy. 😉


Don’t Touch My Hair.


“You know this hair is my shit
Rolled the rod, I gave it time
But this here is mine” – ‘Don’t Touch My Hair’ by Solange Knowles

Touching a black woman’s hair is, excuse me for a second but, it’s a big, motherfucking deal. We don’t like it. It’s annoying. It’s intrusive. And we spend too much money, time, and effort on our hair for it to be messed up so please don’t touch it. I know it looks creative, pretty, different, whatever adjective you may want to use to describe it but it’s still very intrusive when someone asks to touch our hair. You’re asking to touch a part of us like it’s something foreign and weird and it’s incredibly offensive.

How would you feel if someone kept asking to touch your child’s hair? I don’t think you would be pleased. Or what if someone asked to sniff your ears? Weird, huh? Intrusive?

If you don’t understand, I’m going to need you to # search on IG – GET. A. CLUE.

This isn’t a blog entry to clown people about our hair but more so, to show how it important it is to us, well really, to me.

I have a vivid memory of me on Spring Break when I was twelve years old and my Mom kept wanting to cut my dead ends; my hair was long but I didn’t care for it so it wasn’t a big deal to me. I remember sitting on the chair, while my Mother stood behind me with scissors and I kept seeing all of my hair falling to the floor – it didn’t look like just dead ends to me, these were inches and inches of my hair…she just kept cutting. At the time, I think I was in a daze or maybe I was just naive and believed that my Mom knew what she was doing.

Spoiler alert – she didn’t.

Long story short, she cut way more than she needed to and gave me a horrible haircut; one side of my head was a buzz cut and the other side was chopped up shortly in different spots on my head. I looked like a freak experiment. I was horrified. The repercussions of that haircut caused me to be teased mercilessly at school – I was called “electricity” and people would run up to me, poke me, and then pretend as if they were being shocked by an electric outlet (this went on for years even after all of my hair grew back) so that haircut changed my outlook on everything when it relates to my hair.

I don’t play about my hair man.

My problem is that I never wanted to do my hair though. I was spoiled as an only child and my Mom loved doing my hair so I always had her. As I got older, I entrusted different friends (mistake #1, don’t let a lot of different people in your head) to do my hair and I then became hooked on quickweaves, braids and sew-ins, pretty much anything that would help me not have to worry about doing my own hair.

I did this for years. Sew-ins were my safety net. I loved the hell out of some bundles. I needed ALL of the inches! I felt like a sex goddess with all of those inches. Shit, I was a sex goddess with those inches! It was breaking my bank account but I could wear them for months so I bargained with the expenses in my head (mistake #2, btw if anyone wants any Malaysian bundles, let me know).

I had gotten to the point that I didn’t feel comfortable wearing my real hair at all. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my hair. I felt insecure without my bundles.  Who am I without my Malaysian inches?

The irony of it all is that my Mother was the person who helped me build my confidence to wear my natural hair. I stopped wearing bundles and started wearing wigs (which is crazy to me now that I think about it because I’ve always hated wigs). I was buying them left and right and I was so uncomfortable in them.

I was dating a man at the time who craved to see my natural hair but I didn’t have the confidence to wear it. My hair didn’t make me less attractive but yet, I had been wearing everything but my hair for years and I didn’t feel secure in my own skin with it.

Everyday, my Mom would urge me to wear my hair – be comfortable in the skin I’m in; she would buy me headscarves and tell me to embrace wearing them. I would wear the headscarves but it didn’t change my desire to NOT wear my own hair. She encouraged me to dye my hair. And I did. I still didn’t want to wear my natural hair though but I felt a shift in my desire for a change.

I kept debating with her and friends about making a drastic change. I wanted to cut all of my hair off but I was terrified. The last time my hair was cut, I was teased for years and it didn’t help with my self-worth. So I did my research on different styles and barbers. I made an appointment with a barber and my mother went with me.

I felt anxiety as I sat in that chair, watching my hair fall to the floor. I was so afraid but my mom was there, she was smiling and being so supportive, that I could breathe easier. I’m a Libra so I internalize all of my emotions – I think things to death – and all I kept thinking was that I am not my hair, I am not my hair, I am not my hair…

Once I saw my reflection in the mirror, I was floored with bewilderment. My hair was cut to the shortest it’s been since I was twelve years old but this time, it was on my own terms and it was so me! I immediately knew I would never wear a wig or a sew in again. I didn’t have a need to – my natural hair was so freaking amazing that nothing else could eclipse its shine.

Previously, I believed my bundles gave me that extra boost that I needed but now as I look back on it, I feel it was an added shield for my insecurities. It was a blanket for me to hide behind and to escape my truth. My hair is cut so short now that I have nothing to hide behind now. I am bare and fully exposed for all to see and I love it. I have never felt more free, more sexy and more in control of me than I do now (now, I have my moments where I’m in my feelings but I think all women experience this cause we’re somewhat loony).

That’s the power of a black woman’s hair or I guess any woman’s hair. I take pride in my hair. I take pride in that extra “ummph!” my hair gives me so when I say don’t touch my hair, I mean it in the best way possible loves but I’m so for real about this shit, don’t touch it cause I will go apeshit. 🙂



Love Drought 2018.

“Nine times out of ten, I’m in my feelings

but ten times out of nine, I’m only human.” – ‘Love Drought’ by Beyoncé

“You’re too pretty to be single.” 

“Damn, why haven’t you been snatched up yet?” 

“You’re so beautiful, you can’t be single!” 

“What’s wrong with you?…Are you crazy?” 

Sigh. I encounter these questions on a daily basis. To be honest, it’s a bit annoying to be told I’m too pretty to be single. Thank you for the reminder love, I didn’t realize that the entire time that I’ve been single these last three years, you just opened my eyes (notice my sarcasm). I’m not bitter about it, trust me, but as my thirtieth birthday draws near (October 1st, for inquiring minds), it seems the barrage of ‘why am I single’ questions have increased to an all time high.

I wish y’all would get ya’ll some business.

Yes, I’m aware that I’m an attractive woman. I’m a bad chick. My parents did not fail me in the looks department but I’ve learned that beauty comes with extra BS. I get attention, yes but all attention is not good attention and sometimes, I feel much more comfortable with being by myself.

How is it that in 2018, a single woman can’t just be happy being single? Why does something have to be wrong with me because I happen to enjoy my independence?

Being in a relationship, giving up that freedom, being selfless is hard work. Relationships aren’t a walk in the park. I know this. I take it seriously and because I do, no one has the capability to claim me as theirs unless he has shown that he’s worthy to do so.

In the past, I won’t sugarcoat the truth, I was searching for a man. He had to be 6′ tall, caramel complexion, stocky built, just so damn fine (I’m rolling my eyes as I write this btw)! I figured that all of the personality traits and personal desires/wants would come along but let me have that tall glass of caramel first and we can deal with the rest later.

*Face palm* To be frank, I was on some bullshit. Every time I chose a man based on those things, I got burned but I kept thinking that I had to keep looking because eventually, one guy would be different.

None of them were.

I’ll be thirty in less than three months and I’m more sure now of what my heart desires heading into this new chapter than I ever have been throughout my 20s’. It took me a long time to learn what I wanted and more importantly, what I deserved.

This ‘beautiful woman’ was knocked down repeatedly; there were many nights that I spent in my bedroom, on my knees, bawling my eyes out. I was so tired of being hurt. I was so tired of being played. I was angry with a lot of different men that kept coming in and out of my life. It was all of their faults that I was broken. They did this to me.

I would go to work with a smile on my face but inside, everything was breaking because I didn’t know who I was…and so, I needed a break. I took a break from men. I took a break from sex. Instead of thinking of finding me a man, I set my eyes to God.

Letting go and giving it all to Him wasn’t easy! Slowly, I began to see myself in a different light. I had to face my history. I had to understand why these men from my past kept hurting me. And God’s everlasting love for me revealed my bitter truth – it wasn’t the men that were hurting me, it was myself.

Ugh. Let me tell you, by the time that I faced this brutal truth, I was so broken and depleted. There was no amount of attention from any man who could heal me and no amount of good sex that could soothe my wrecked soul…

but God!

I won’t go too deep into my spiritual awakening except to say that it wasn’t an overnight change. I had to be diligent and focused. I had to learn to love the woman who I saw in the mirror. I had to understand that my worth wasn’t defined by another man but by God  and His Word alone.

I’ve messed up along the way. I’ve given into temptation (it was not worth it). I’ve chased that feeling of lust, like I’ve done in my past, and found myself slipping back to my old  routine ways because I wanted a certain type of man but the difference from the woman who I am now and the woman I was before? I know my God. I know who I am.

My journey of learning my self-worth is different from others but when people ask me why I’m still single, I want them to know it’s because I’ve been to the bottom, I’ve been broken, I know what that pain is like to settle, to be treated less than a Queen and I rather be single than to go through any of that mess again.

In other words, you have to know you’re a King to even approach a woman like me. And that’s not being condescending or cocky, it’s just the simple truth. I’m in a different league. I am a woman of God. I am that virtuous woman in Proverbs 31. And because I am that woman, I am okay with living my life, being in acceptance of my singledom, loving this season I’m in because I know that eventually I’ll be “snatched up” but until then, leave me be and stay out of my business, please and thank you. 🙂

God Bless.

What Makes Me Happy?

“It’s a funny thing, 

the less people have to live for,

the less nerve they have to risk losing nothing.” -Zora Neale Hurston 

I’ve been very quiet on here lately. Please forgive me. To be honest, I am not the best with reaching deadlines or upholding my promise on things because my mind is constantly moving, racing, switching course that I forget about so many things that I’ve started. My hope is to be better. My desire is to be better.

I will myself to be better.

Writing as a kid was my solace, my escape from reality. It gave me comfort and peace. It was my shield of protection when everything else in my life appeared to be unstable or inconsistent. It was a natural outlet for me as a kid but now, it’s so hard for me to put words to paper or to type these words onto a computer screen. I am so easily distracted by everything – for example, just writing these two short paragraphs has taken over thirty minutes to accomplish because I received a notification on my phone from Instagram and it drew me away instantly.

Social Media is slightly driving me away from reality. The simple solution to this problem would be to deactivate my social media and unplug from it all. And I’ve done that before (how freeing!) but then I rationalize this with the notion that I need my social media accounts to promote my work – essentially this blog, but I’m not writing anything so it’s all an excuse to get wrapped up on what’s going on online, who is wearing what, what celebrity got caught cheating on who this week, etc. and to put it simply, that shit gets old.

I woke up with this morning, thanked God for my life and immediately went to my phone to check my IG notifications and when this happened, something hit me – I see people every day on Instagram or Facebook showing off how they are living in their purpose, showing off what makes them happy, what God has blessed them with and all the while God is saying to me, “Why aren’t you using your gift that I’ve given to you?”

My answer is simply that I don’t know. I know I allow myself to get comfortable in a routine. I have so many ideas and desires circulating in my head and I want to do them all, so I make plans, I begin them, I become so inspired by it all and then it becomes overwhelming to me, so I back off from them. I did this with my blog, I did this with my YouTube channel, I do it every day it seems like. And I’ve come to the realization that I find solace in being complacent. I can be okay with where I’m currently at – I can be thankful for the job that I have and the income that I receive – I can be good with it but is it enough? Is it fulfilling for my soul?

It’s not.

I run from my purpose. In the past, I worried about others’ opinions of me, I cared too much and too deeply about people judging me for my truth and so, I held back writing for fear of rejection or ridicule. In hindsight, I wish I would have written when I cared so much about what other people thought of me because it would have essentially been my therapy, possibly a gateway to my healing of something that was broken within me. Now, it’s no longer an issue. I could give a damn about what anyone else has to say or think about me. Life is short. I don’t have time to be concerned with making anyone else happy. I am only concerned about making myself happy.

What makes me happy?

It isn’t material things. Now don’t get me wrong, I can get a high from buying a new dress or shoes (I’m also very cheap so the high does not last long when I think about how I much spent on something) but it’s not something that’s rewarding for my spirit.

It isn’t men. I want to be in a committed relationship and I want a family, but this wouldn’t necessarily make me happy. I must be already complete and whole, by myself, before I can add anything else into my life. A man or a child cannot make me happy – they should add onto my happiness but not be the sole supplier of it.

It isn’t sex. I’m a Libra (I don’t care if you don’t believe in Astrology cause the shit is real). I feel deeply, I yearn deeply and most importantly, I love deeply. Sex is not just sex to me. Of course, I feel good for that moment in time but when it’s done and I’m back to the realization that this man isn’t my life partner, I am unfulfilled by it. I see no need for it. Abstaining from sex makes me happier than having sex with someone who has not made a commitment to me.

So that brings me back to what was my solace for so long as a kid – writing. It’s been my constant healer. Everything else seems so hard – dating, loving someone else, or simply living – but this, once I retain my focus, this is so easy. It makes me happy. As a matter of fact, I’m smiling now as I write this, I’m cheesing so big that it slightly hurts my face. That’s what it does to me. It nourishes my spirit, it feeds me.

Earlier, as I wrote about losing my concentration – once I achieved it, the words fell from me so easily like it was destiny, it was meant to be. I wanted to write about something different when I began this blog entry. I wanted to discuss astrology and what that has revealed me to about myself, but my spirit took me on another course and I absolutely love that about writing! It’s so in the moment, so free and liberating. I want to feel that feeling always. I can’t explain the emotions I’m experiencing when I’m in my zone, doing what I love the most, what gives me the greatest solitude and peace – it’s damn near orgasmic to me. Like, damn I felt ALL of that!

I’m in acceptance of what needs to happen moving forward. Though I can’t make promises, I can only will myself to be better. I think a lot of people wait on God to move for them when He’s waiting on you to make the next move. He’s given me my purpose so long ago and I’m asking him to move for me (I always keep saying, “I know what I need to do but can you move for me Lord?”) but He keeps coming back to me, so clearly and vividly – “Just write, Jelisha and let me do the rest.”

Okay, okay, I hear you God, I hear you.



Goodbye 2017.

I began this year creating this blog with the goal in mind to update it weekly with crazy stories of my dating life and how much it sucked. And I was consistent with my intentions for about three weeks and then I just fell off. Like, all the way off.

So, I’m here now, bidding adieu to 2017 and reflecting on the time that I’ve regretfully lost by not putting forth a conscious effort to make this blog this poppin’ as they say (does anyone still say ‘poppin’ btw?). Life always gets in the way with me or to be honest, fear gets in my way.

In January, I ended a toxic connection with someone who was not good for me and then I jumped into something else without allowing myself the time to heal and therefore, I wound up damaging my esteem even worse because I was somewhat broken looking for an easy fix.

Eating became a coping mechanism to deal with whatever feelings I was experiencing. I stopped working out. I spent way too much money on hair extensions (sidenote: FML!).  I went on dates with creeps. I smoked way too much weed. I wanted to feel numb. I wanted to disappear from my reality. I wanted to escape.

Ya girl had to be depressed ya’ll.

Coming to this realization is hard for me but it’s also therapeutic because I can honestly say I’m on the other side of things now. It took time. It took prayer. It took me stumbling over myself multiple, multiple times but dear God, I’m okay now. I’m really okay.

How did I get to my lowest?

Last year, my self-worth had been destroyed by a man. I gave all of myself to someone who could give two shits about me. His idea of love was to take and mine was to give away. I gave away everything I stood for last year. I thought that’s what people in relationships were supposed to do and so naively, I did it.

And when my spirit was broken. I thought by moving forward in my life healed me. I thought God had sown up all the wounds so that as I moved into 2017, I would be more than ready to step into God’s purpose for me. Looking back now, I was so unaware of how broken I still was. I still didn’t understand that the healing doesn’t happen overnight.

It’s a journey.

Instead of wanting to face that journey, that up hill climb of change, I hid away. I hid away with food, weed, and senseless dates that did nothing for me but give me a temporary break from reality. And when the fun stopped, I was back with my thoughts. I was back with my pain. I was still stumbling over myself, making the same mistakes I’ve always made and trying to push away the pain with anything that made me feel good for that moment.

I was introduced to a man back in the summer who was great on the surface level, I mean, he was a good dude and it was the first time, in a long time, I actually met someone who genuinely was a good person. During the course of our courtship, I wanted to retreat from emotional feelings – I would freak out if I thought he was moving too quickly for my liking, I wanted to feel nothing when I was around him so I smoked to feel numb. And while he thought we were headed on a good path, I just wanted to a release.

The phrase “hurt people hurt other people” has never rang more true to me especially in this situation. I was a hurt woman. I was still trying to mend pieces of me that had been broken and I didn’t want the same things that this man wanted. I wanted a sexual connection and he desired committment. I could have been open about my needs but I don’t think I truly understood, at least at the time, that I was in need of healing instead of trying to make something work with someone else.

I wanted to like him. I wanted to make things work but I couldn’t and in the process, I hurt his feelings. We’re grown folks so nobody is shedding tears but I wasted someone’s time. And I know how that feels; to invest yourself with someone, to care for them, do things for them and for them to not reciprocate your feelings blows ass.

Hurting him kind of snapped something in me because I drew back slightly. I needed to understand why I was making repeated mistakes – I almost brought someone back in my life that God had purposefully removed for a reason!

Two things happened that changed my course of action: my mother prayed for me. My mother is a spiritual warrior. Her spirit tugs on me when I stray too far away. It brings me back to my medium, my safe place.

The second thing that worked out in my favor was that I begun working on a podcast. I always thought I could do radio. I’m a pretty funny chick so I thought it was a no brainer for me. The podcast was something that I didn’t know if I was ready for but it gave me a different type of purpose. It gave me something to work on, to work through. I met some wonderful men who have become like family to me. I started to smile more. I started working out again. I started eating right MOST of the time again. I was laughing more.

It’s so fascinating to me how God works. In the midst of my pain, he gives me a different path, a different journey and tells me that I can either be complacent or I can step out onto the unknown and allow myself the space and energy to truly heal.

I’ll be honest and say I was terrified as fuck! I dreaded doing the podcast. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. I didn’t want to screw up but God kept telling me, “Heal….heal.”

And so, I tried to heal in the best way I knew how to…by being myself.

I love to make others laugh. I tend to have no filter and I will say whatever I feel like it and sometimes that might work as a disadvantage for me but majority of the time, it helps bring on the laughs. On the podcast, as the weeks went on, I felt more at ease and more comfortable.

And by healing (which I’m still doing btw), I have come to understand why it’s so important to keep people around you that love you and genuinely care for you. If I hadn’t had my mother in my corner, I don’t know where I would be. I was ultimately in a dark space earlier this year and she helped course me along through the ride. If God hadn’t blessed me with the opportunity of this podcast, I wouldn’t have met some incredible men who are becoming my family and my protectors.

I’m watching 2017 come to a close and it makes so excited for what 2018 has to bring! I’m not about that “new year, new me” shit. It’s about that “new year, step into my purpose” type shit. The power of healing, for me, comes from the words that I write and the stories I share with you and others who may go through similar things as me. I’ve been a hurt chick for far too long and I’m ready to reclaim a lot of my time back (you see how I did that? lol) so let’s go in 3….2….1…..!